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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25075579">To Breath Beneath the Tide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKittyOh/pseuds/MissKittyOh'>MissKittyOh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead &amp; Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Male Carriers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Babies, Baby, Birth, Bisexual Rick Grimes, Bottom Daryl Dixon, Breastfeeding, Canon Universe, Canonical Character Death, Choking, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Creampie, Death in Childbirth, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Family Rick Grimes/Daryl Dixom, Female Pregnancy, Forced Pregnancy, Found Families, Gay Daryl Dixon, Gay Sex, Good Big Brother Carl Grimes, Good Dad Daryl Dixon, Grieving, Hurt Daryl Dixon, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Lactation, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Lactation, Male Pregnancy, Minor Straight Sex Scene, Mpreg, Nipple Play, No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, No Beta, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Nurse Carol Peletier, Past Child Abuse, Pregnancy, Pregnant Daryl Dixon, Pregnant Lori Grimes, Prison (Walking Dead), Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rapist Shane Walsh, Recovery, Rick Takes Off His Ring, Slow Burn, Spit As Lube, Step-Dad Daryl Dixon, Step-Dad Rick, Survivor Daryl Dixon, The Greene Farm (Walking Dead), Top Rick Grimes, Unofficial Adoption, Unplanned Pregnancy, WIP, Walkers (Walking Dead), Will Dixon Being an Asshole, Work In Progress, no a/b/o</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25075579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKittyOh/pseuds/MissKittyOh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick had his hands up and his voice soft and firm but Daryl couldn’t care. All he cared about was Shane coming around the corner of the truck. Daryl’s vision was hazy, he was getting dizzy, he felt as though he couldn’t get enough air. But he could focus on Shane, as the man walked closer. He took off the safety, he could hear people shouting now, but it felt far away, so far away. All he could see was that motherfucker getting closer.<br/>“You rat fucking bastard,” he pulled the trigger.</p><p>This fic will be updated once a week until completion!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daryl Dixon/Original Male Character(s), Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon/Shane Walsh, Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes/Shane Walsh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In the Woods Somewhere</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a work in progress! I'll be trying to follow the main storyline from the show as best as I can!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s the snap of a branch that alerts him to their presence. That, and the rustle of the leaves. </p>
<p>He’s sure they thought they were being quiet, but Daryl’s survival depends on hearing what others don't. It’s how he caught their food, it’s how he kept the camp safe, it’s how he could alert the group of a walker no one could see yet. It was the only thing that made him valuable enough for the group to keep him and his brother around.</p>
<p>So when he’s out in the woods, ears open, eyes tracing the tracks of a squirrel that had gone through the brush, not five minutes before, he’s just doing his job. He’s doing what he’s supposed to. It’s not his fault Lori and Shane decided to get it on in the middle of his hunting grounds. It’s not his fault the squirrel he was tracking ran up the tree beside them. And it’s not his fault that the lack of game that day meant the group needed that squirrel if they wanted to eat that night. It’s not his fault.</p>
<p>He aims, breaths in slowly, the squirrel is distracted by the ruckus below him, Shane grunting as his belt buckle clinks, Lori shuffling to turn onto her stomach. He lets his breath out and fires the bolt.<br/>Lori yelps, shouting for Shane to get off, struggling to clothe her barred ass, and Shane’s head whips around, eyes dark with arousal and rage as they find Daryl.</p>
<p>“Daryl,” Lori breaths in a panic, getting up and trying to right her clothing, “It’s not what it looks like, we were just- I just-” she stops, looking him in the eye, her flushed face paling rapidly. “Please don’t tell Carl.”</p>
<p>“Why in the hell would I tell a kid who his mom fucks?” Daryl frowned, brows furrowed, “I don't give a rats ass ‘cept yer scarin’ off my game”</p>
<p>Lori sighs, blushing again, relief flooding her face “Right, of course, I- Sorry, I should get back,” she looks to Shane and squeezes his bicep, “Carl’s probably looking for me so I should- I should get back,” she backs up as she repeats herself, breaking eye contact with Shane and doing her best impression of a bat out of hell. She disappears out of the tree line and Daryl figures that's that. He pulls his bolt free of both the tree and the squirrel, ready to string it up with the only other squirrel he’d found that day, when Shane grabs him by the nape of the neck and yanks him backward, hard.</p>
<p>“The fuck, man?” Daryl half shouts, angry and confused, but still wary of possible walkers, “What the hell-” he’s still scrambling back, trying to pull himself off the forest floor, when Shane gets down quick and punches him hard in the chest. <br/>The breath leaves his lungs as Shane straddles him, wrapping one hand around his throat, the other grasping both his wrists and holding them together, pushing them into the floor.<br/>“You stupid hillbilly fuck,” Shane growled and tightened his grip on Daryl’s neck. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to get her out here? Huh?” Shane lifts Daryl by the throat and slams his head back into the ground as Daryl struggles, legs kicking, eyes burning.<br/>“You dumb bitch, shooting at my head, trying to kill me? I’ll fuckin’ gut you,” Then his hand is loosening its grip on Daryl’s neck and he gasps for air, he grits his teeth as Shane uses his newly freed hand to punch him in the ribs.</p>
<p>“Ge’ off me,” Daryl grunts, “Fuckin’ kill ya, get the fuck off,” his head is pounding from the impact and the lack of oxygen, his back and ribs hurt, but he’d fought bigger guys than Shane and survived, he’ll be damned if he let’s trigger happy officer from nowhere take him out after the end of the world. He kicks his knees up, doing his best to land hits on Shane’s back.<br/>“Nuh-uh, none of that now, you owe me. I’m the one who told them to let you and your dumbass brother in, one word from me and you’re out, you owe me.” Shane’s breathing got harder and he tensed his body as he went to roll Daryl from his back to his stomach without catching a knee to the groin.<br/>“Don’t owe you shit, man! Me an’ Merle’ll be fine on our own, we don’t need y'all, don’t owe y’all- I’ll kill you once I get free, you mothrfuck-” Daryl grunts and his head drops as Shane puts the crossbow down, the force of the blow nearly knocking him out, but Shane knew just where to hit to make a body quiet and pliant without putting them under. <br/>“You’re not gonna kill me,” Shane laughed as he reached over for the rope Daryl used to string his prey, tying it around his wrists and forearms, tight above his head, leaving Daryl to look dizzily at his own arms and the freshly dead squirrel.<br/>“Ya know why? Huh? Cause you kill me and your brother’s dead, might as well knife him yourself,” both hands free he lifted himself above Daryl’s body and ground his crotch into Daryl’s ass, “And you’re not gonna tell anyone neither, ain’t nobody gonna believe a piece a’ white trash over a cop.”<br/>He undid his belt buckle for the second time in that forest, pulling his pants and his underwear down enough to get his cock out.<br/>“You gonna run to you big brother, tell him you're a faggot? Huh? You gonna tell him you let a cop take your stupid fairy ass right here in the dirt?” he squeezed a hand around Daryl’s throat from behind, making the man choke out a groan, and leaned in the whisper in his ear, “You gonna tell him that you gagged for my cock? That you're such a slut you had to interrupt me and Lori just to get at my dick?”</p>
<p>“Noo... '' Daryl moaned, dizzy and hurting, feeling Shane’s hands on his waistband, gathering his boxers and jeans in a tight grip. But Shane only chuckled, breath hot on the back of Daryl’s neck. “You know, I came out here to get off and I'm not going back to camp until I do. Lucky for me, you owe me that favor, so why don’t you just bend that ass back and we’ll call it even, huh? How bout that? Cause I can fuck you now, go into that camp and shoot your brother in the head. You want that? Tell ‘em you attacked me, that you and your brother was gonna loot us.” He yanked Daryl’s clothes down past his thighs, kneeling to get them around his knees, lifting Daryl’s hips and forcing Daryl to lean on his shoulders with his ass in the air. “I can do that, or you can be a good, quiet fuck, you can lay there and take it and I won’t lay a hand on you or your brother after this. This can be it, tell me you want it, tell me you want me to fuck you good, and that’s it. You don’t tell no one, I don’t tell no one, I go back to Lori, maybe fuck her tomorrow, maybe fuck her next week, right here where I fucked you. You get to go back to the group, you and your brother get to stay alive, ain’t that nice?” As he spoke he pulled Daryl’s ass cheeks apart and rubbed his dick between them. Every time the head caught on Daryl’s hole he would whimper, his body jerking involuntarily, making Shane grind down harder. </p>
<p>Shane’s grip on his hips went bruising, “I asked you a question, boy.” He pressed the head of his dick against Daryl’s hole hard in warning. <br/>“Sounds nice!” Daryl yelped, breathless from the pain, “Sounds real nice, real nice.. Real nice…” <br/>“That's it, good boy.” He pulled the head back, jerking it a little, letting his precome fall onto Daryl’s hole. “Now you gotta ask nice, you want me to finger you? Get you nice and ready for me? Get you wet like a bitch? Or you want me in you raw? You gotta tell me or I’ll have to go raw, and-”<br/>“Please,” Daryl interrupted, “Please get me wet, I want- I want you to get me wet…” <br/>“Wet like a..?” <br/>“Wet like a bitch, make me wet like a bitch.” Daryl grunted out, thinking of Merle, how he’d better be grateful, how he’d never know, how no one could ever know what he’s doing right now, in this moment, with this man.</p>
<p>“Well, shit boy, that’s all you had to say,” He grinned and spread Daryl’s cheeks farther, spitting on his hole and watching it drip. He lifted a hand from Daryl’s ass, the other squeezing and massaging as it held him open, and reached around to present Daryl with his fingers and said, “Now you bite, and your brother's brains are gonna paint your pretty face.” before shoving them into the man's mouth.<br/>Daryl did his best to gather as much spit as he could, tasting dirt and sweat, he sucked two digits into his mouth before Shane quickly added a third, groaning and thumbing at Daryl’s hole. He pulled back, fingers sticky and dripping with saliva, chuckling at the sound of Daryl’s labored breathing, before roughly shoving a thick finger into Daryl’s ass. <br/>“Ahh!” Daryl cried out, struggling not to squirm away from the intrusion. But Shane paid him no mind, poking into the man's passage quick and hard before adding another finger, much too soon.</p>
<p>Daryl crooned lowly, muscles spasming while Shane cursed about him being ‘damn tight’. Shane spread his fingers inside Daryl and spit into his hole, rubbing his dick against Daryl’s upper thigh. Daryl forced his lower body to relax, trying to content himself with tensing his arms, fists and teeth. It got a little easier after that, Shane spit again, mouth watering at the thought of getting his dick in that tight hole soon. Daryl, disoriented as he was, tried to assess his situation as best he could. From what he could feel of the man’s penis, it wasn't any thicker than average, but it was long, and with no lube, no matter how thick, this was going to hurt. His head was pounding and his hole was throbbing as Shane pressed a third finger in, laughing at the obscene way the other man’s hole was spread over his thick digits. The third finger didn’t hurt as much, and Daryl was relieved to note his muscles were relaxing, his face going slack as he let Shane do what he wanted. The burn was starting to fade as he blocked out Shane’s voice, eyes drifting in front of him, looking at the squirrel, dead between his arms, above his face. He let his mind drift while Shane pushed his dick past the rim of Daryl’s hole.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It don’t hurt so bad. He thought, I’ve had worse, even when I wanted it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He thought back to when he was fifteen, and the local preacher's son had decided to take him on as a charity case. Drunk dad, dead mom, absent brother and poor as shit to boot. He was the perfect little project for the perfect future preacher. Kyle had followed him around town, being perfectly polite and generally not leaving Daryl the hell alone. No matter how nasty Daryl had been to the kid, he just wouldn't go away. Daryl had seriously been considering just beating the shit out of the guy and being done with it. But Kyle had followed him into the woods, all curly black hair and blue eyes, still growing into his broad shoulders. As much as he wanted to hit that stupid kid right in his stupid pretty face, he didn't want to explain to his Pa why battery charges were brought against him by the most admired family in town. </p>
<p>So he did what he thought would scare the boy away. He kissed him. He told him that’s why he should stay away, that Daryl was no good, he shouldn’t be following him around like a damn puppy dog. But Kyle had just looked at him, blue eyes wide, cheeks flushed and grabbed him by the shoulders. Daryl was prepared for a fist to his face, figured his dad hit him enough, so what was one more punch. But Kyle had… kissed him. And kissed him again, and again and they’d ended up on the forest floor with nothing but teenage adrenaline and a tube of melted chapstick.<br/>Daryl lost his virginity to the preacher’s son in the woods behind his house.</p>
<p>Kyle had babbled about how he’d been tested last year and he was a carrier and so it would be best if he made love to Daryl instead of the other way around. Daryl’d never been tested because when had Will Dixon ever cared about his sons’ health. But the way Kyle had said it, that he’d be making love to him, it made Daryl say yes. It hurt more than it felt good and Kyle had gone off inside him within three minutes, but, he’d said Daryl was beautiful. Said he was funny, he was pretty, he was strong and he was good. He kissed Daryl like he meant something, so he’d laid back in the leaves, wrapped his legs around the boy's hips and let him rut inside Daryl while he jerked him off. Daryl didn't come till after Kyle had pulled out, he felt the boy's hot cum leaking slowly from his hole, while his neck was kissed and his dick was rubbed. Then Kyle had reached a shy hand up to Daryl’s chest and pinched his nipple and that was it; Daryl arched off the ground and muffled his moans in Kyle’s mouth. <br/>Kyle had grinned and kissed him and said that it had felt so good that he had felt so good. He helped Daryl get cleaned up, but as they were putting their clothes back on, Kyle’s grin started to fade. His mind had cleared from arousal and orgasm, he couldn’t make eye contact with Daryl. He could barely look at the other boy. Then he was rushing off, rattling excuses and leaving Daryl in the woods. </p>
<p>Two days later, with no further contact from Kyle, Daryl heard the Mayor's daughter bragging about how she’d gotten asked out by Kyle Bowers. <br/>Daryl had gotten his wish, though. He had kissed Kyle, and Kyle had kissed him, and then Kyle had left him alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Daryl came back to himself as he felt Shane finish inside him. He looked at the bloody fur in front of his face. He heard Shane sigh as he got up. He patted Daryl’s ass, still leaking with his spend, cut the rope around Daryl’s wrist and forearms before walking away. He called behind him<br/>“Glad we could settle things like men Daryl, I’ll see you back at camp.” He began to walk back towards camp before turning back around and smirking, “Oh, and send your brother my way, I want him on the next supply run with Glenn and the others.”<br/>His deep laughter was the last thing Daryl heard before closing his eyes and letting the darkness take him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Nothing But Us in Violence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ain’t no walker gonna leave someone the way he ended up. He woulda been dead. If it‘d been walkers he’d have died.<br/>For a split second, he wished it’d been walkers.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading chapter one! Welcome to chapter two! medical make do healing of last chapters events, there will also be discussion of domestic abuse. read at your own risk.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“...fia go get mommy that bag from the tent… talk to anyone… straight back to... Got it?”<br/>Daryl heard footsteps, light, small, but with the stomping force of a child. He heard a body moving close to him, the clothes rubbing against each other, and then that voice again.</p><p>“You’re not bleeding bad, but you’re banged up pretty good. The sun’ll be coming down soon and we’ll get you to the lake ‘fore anyone sees.”</p><p>Daryl groaned, recognizing the voice of the other mom from camp, Carol. That meant the footsteps had been her kid. God, a fucking kid had seen him like... that. He flinched and struggled when Carol brought her hands to his knees, going to pull his pants and underwear up.</p><p>“I know it’s gonna hurt, but my daughter’s gonna be back soon with my bag, and I don't need her seeing your bare butt more than necessary. ‘Sides, we gotta get you to the lake and we can’t do that with your pants all twisted up ‘round your knees. C’mon, up you go, that’s it.”</p><p>Daryl groaned as he was pulled up, trying to protest, trying to tell this woman, this stranger, that he didn't need no help, he can take care of himself, but he couldn't get the words out. He just couldn't.</p><p>Carol helped him take the rest of the rope from his arms and wiped the dirt from his mouth with the end of her flannel. Daryl tried to shift his head when he heard those light, stomping steps, but his head spun and his shoulder twinged from around Carol’s shoulder where the muscles in his neck pulled on his sore arms.</p><p>“Easy now, don’t you move too fast, I’m not that strong, and I need you to help me get to the lake.” she started walking, both arms doing their best to support Daryl’s weight while Sophia trailed behind her with a large white bag with the word EMERGENCY written in sharpie on the sides.<br/>“It’s okay Mr. Daryl, we can fix you, and we don’t gotta tell nobody neither,” Sophia said fiercely, “We can keep a secret, me and momma are good at that, and I’d tell you how but that’s a secret and so I can’t tell you but that just means I’m keepin’ to my word, like I told you.”</p><p>“Sophia!” Carol said firmly, not stopping their slow trek, “Mr. Daryl has gotta have a big headache by now and so I need you to be quiet, you understand?”</p><p>“Yes, momma, I understand,” she replied quietly, “What I mean, Mr. Daryl, is that you’re gonna be okay and my mom can take the pain with pills and make the marks go away with some cream and she can help you with the cuts and I know how to wrap a bandage so maybe even I could help your arms, and-”</p><p>“Baby, I need your help getting Mr. Daryl to the lake, but after that, I need you to go back to the camp and stay with Lori and Carl, okay? I don’t want you to go back to our tent without me so if you have to sleep with the Grimes’, you’re gonna sleep with the Grimes’ and I'll get you in the morning.”</p><p>They were nearing the halfway point from the woods to the lake, but having to go the long way around to avoid being seen had added minutes and meters to their walk. Daryl felt as if his legs would go out any minute, pain shooting through his backside with every step. He did his best to keep his eyes forward and his head from swaying, focusing instead on the words being said around him.</p><p>“And if they ask, you tell ‘em Mommy needed to get clean and she’d be gone for a while, okay? You don’t know anything about Mr. Daryl, I don’t think anyone would ask you, but just in case, okay? Mr. Daryl got attacked by one of the monsters and I gotta do my job and take care of him. But he’s a little embarrassed about it so we’re gonna keep it to ourselves, okay?”</p><p>“But, mom the monsters don’t give you marks and stuff like-”</p><p>“Some monsters do, Sophia. Some monsters do, okay?”</p><p>Sophia looked at the side of her mom’s face, then to the dark marks she could see on Mr. Daryl’s neck. Both adults were looking straight forward as they neared the lake. She glanced at Mr. Daryl’s arms, red and raw looking, then back to her mother. She nodded.<br/>“Okay momma.” she listened to the soft groans and grunts Mr. Daryl had been making since she’d found him. “Okay.”</p><p>Carol took the bag from Sophia and sent her back to camp once they reached the lake. Carol stayed silent as she worked on getting Daryl out of his clothes so she could assess the damage. He only struggled a bit before she set him straight and he only gruffed at her quietly, letting her work.<br/>She took what she needed from her bag and used her flannel as a rag to gently but firmly clean Daryl off with the lake water, being careful of the various cuts she could see on his body.</p><p>...</p><p>“You don’t have to talk about it”</p><p>He stayed silent</p><p>“I won’t make you, don’t think I could if I tried,”</p><p>He huffed in confirmation.</p><p>“But I’m gonna need to know if this is gonna happen again. Because I don’t think you’ll survive if it does. These bruises,” she traced the darkened skin of his neck, “they’re deep. If he had squeezed any harder your trachea would be broken and my daughter would have found your dead body.”<br/>Daryl stayed silent, body still aching, his brain screaming to keep his damn trap shut. Kept replaying what Shane had said. How no one would believe him. And the more he thought about it, what could he even say? Daryl had begged for his fingers, if only to stop Shane from tearing him apart. But Shane would say that Daryl had told him to do it, and he wouldn’t be lying. He’d had Daryl beg. And Merle. Merle got Daryl out of that house, away from their Pa, and how does Daryl repay him? By getting him killed by a cop. He couldn’t risk it. Merle could be a mean son of a bitch, but he was blood. He was blood, and the only one Daryl had left.</p><p>And if he tells this woman- If he tells this stranger, who had left him beaten and bruised laying on the forest floor, she’s as good as dead too. What wouldn’t Shane do to shut Daryl up? Daryl thought about what Sofia had been saying while Carol dragged him to the lake. What the hell was she talking about? Was it all in his head? What in the fuck did Carol mean by ‘monsters’? Ain’t no walker gonna leave someone the way he ended up. He woulda been dead. If it‘d been walkers he’d have died.</p><p>For a split second, he wished it’d been walkers.</p><p>He shook his head, trying to physically shake the thought away. He did what he did to stay alive, keep Merle alive. Why the fuck would he think about dying after working that goddamn hard? Fuck that. He didn’t let Shane kill him in that forest and he wouldn’t let Shane kill him now.<br/>He glared at Carol as she rubbed the bruise cream into his neck.</p><p>“I didn’t ask for no help.”<br/>Carol paused, held his eye for a second, then continued with her task. The woman looked, normally, like a nervous wreck. Meek as a mouse every time Daryl saw her. But Daryl had only ever seen Carol when Ed was around, or nearby. She wasn’t nervous now, or if she was she didn’t show it. She moved on to the bruises on his chest and ribs.</p><p>“No,” she said quietly, “no you didn’t. But I know what it’s like to be a victim, I know what it’s like-“</p><p>“Ain’t no fuckin’ victim,” Daryl growled at her, rage burning in his chest. “I ain’t nothin’ like you, ain’t no one's bitch, I don’t keep with no man who beat me to shit, don’t cower when he speaks an’ I sure as hell ain’t no ones fuckin’ victim!”<br/>He was breathing heavily and it pulled at his aching ribs. “You don’t know shit ‘bout me.”</p><p>But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? He’d stayed with his Pa till Merle took custody of him. His father beat him to hell and back when he was sober enough to still see straight, and worse when he wasn’t. He remembers flinching any time his Pa raised his voice. He still ducks away from unfamiliar touches. Hell, he ducks away from Merle’s touch too. He hates when men shout. When they deepen their voice and get real loud. God, it makes his skin crawl. Makes him wanna cry and scream and punch and bite all at once before he shoves it all down like vomit in the back of his throat. He heard once that animals have a fight or flight response. Where their body thinks they're in danger, so their brain shoots into overdrive, trying to keep them alive. He used to wonder if that was how a deer felt when it heard a branch snap and took off. It’s how he felt when he heard his Pa slam open the front door, boots coming down heavy on the linoleum floor.</p><p>Carol laughed without humor, “No, you’re not like me are you? And I don’t know shit about you, but I know that. You’re right, you’re no victim. You’re a survivor. You made it through. You came out alive.”</p><p>She gripped his wrist tight and he sucked a breath in through his teeth. “So survivor, are you gonna stay alive? Or is the man who did this gonna do it again? Cause I guarantee he’s not gonna walk away next time with you still breathing.”<br/>He pushed air out hard through his nose, teeth grinding.</p><p>This woman had dragged his broken body, cleaned him, and patched him up. She cleaned his cuts and washed away the remnants Shane had left. She had seen inside his body, checked for tearing and bruising, and looked him in the eye when it was over.<br/>He was a piece of shit. He snapped and growled at the only person who’d helped him. God, he sure was one ungrateful son of a bitch.</p><p>“He ain’t gonna- he said he wouldn’t do nothin’- said we was even now.” He rasped, unable to meet Carol’s eyes.<br/>Carol stayed silent for a long time. Long enough for Daryl to think maybe she hadn’t heard him, but then she nodded. She looked him in the eye and said, “Okay.”<br/>They didn’t talk much after that. Carol helped him get dressed, in the driest bits of clothes he had left, and he helped her pack up her big bag of medical goodies. They were almost done when she stopped him. One hand on his hand, she passed him the jar of cream.</p><p>“You keep this. You’re gonna need it. Use it twice a day on your skin, and twice a day on the inside of your rectum.” He winced at her wording, but shook it off and nodded. There had been no pity in those eyes.</p><p>Carol helped him up one last time and they headed, slowly, in the direction of the camp.<br/>They were quiet for a bit, only the sound of their breathing and the nightly noises of the surrounding forest, before Daryl asked, voice soft but gruff,<br/>“How’d you know all that stuff? With my throat and that... internal shit?”<br/>Carol hummed low in her throat before answering. “I was training to be a trauma nurse, before I married Ed. Some things stick with you. ‘Specially when you use them every so often.”</p><p>Daryl nodded.<br/>They made their way back into camp as people started retiring. Carol gave him one last look, then slipped into her tent.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Cut Open My Sternum and Pull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The sun was high in the sky by the time he got up. He pulled his crossbow off of his back and readied it with only one prey in mind.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>read the notes at the bottom for warnings about this chapter. (sorry in advance, this chapters pretty short) I'll be skipping around the original storyline because I don't want to muck up my story with filler information that you guys already know from watching the show.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks later and the group was running low on food.</p><p><br/>Daryl caught what he could, spending most of his time in the forest, away from everyone else. He kept his head down, didn't talk much, but that was nothing too deviant to his previous behavior. Shane didn’t look at him. Barely acknowledge him, and Daryl couldn’t help but be relieved.</p><p><br/>Merle kept looking at him funny, asking questions about his neck. Daryl made something up about the prey rope getting wrapped around it and caught on a branch, the more he pulled the tighter it got so he cut it. That’s why he needed a new line, that’s why his throat was fucked up and that’s why he’d lost the squirrels that day.</p><p><br/>Glenn volunteered to go into the city and gather supplies, but Shane wasn’t having it. He insisted that a group would work better and they could carry more stuff. Merle was smirking, he’d been waiting for a chance to go to Atlanta since Shane had asked him about it two weeks prior, eager to score what he could and kill a couple dead ones. But Daryl had hung back as the group deliberated. He’d grabbed his crossbow and headed out into the woods.</p><p><br/>By the time he came back it was dark, and he’d caught a couple hares, some possums and one fat raccoon.</p><p><br/>But no squirrels, he wouldn’t bring back squirrels.</p><p><br/>Amy saw him coming and smiled, though it came across more as a grimace when she glanced at the dead animals hanging from the man's neck and belt.</p><p><br/>He dropped the carcasses at Merle's feet near the fire and settled down next to him in the dirt. They got their knives out to skin and gut the animals and Merle caught Daryl up on the run.</p><p><br/>They’d finish prepping tomorrow, what everyone needed, what some people were bitching about, what places to look out for. Then they would head out the day after, expecting to be back before night fell. A good portion of the group would be going, but Shane would be staying there. To ‘defend the camp’.</p><p><br/>They’d been ready to roast the meat when Daryl saw his chance to get free of the conversation, and Merle’s brash comments about their group members.</p><p><br/>Daryl took the pelts and went to the lake, ready to wash, seal and dry them for later use.</p><p>...</p><p>Two days later and Daryl was on the trail of a deer. He wasn’t too deep in the woods, trying to steer clear of... that area, but the deer tracks only seem to lead through there. He huffed silently and followed the hoof prints.</p><p>This time they were already going at it.</p><p>Lori moaning quietly, her face to the ground. Shane’s grunting as he pounds into her, the sounds of their bodies loud in the otherwise quiet clearing. Daryl could feel the acrid burn of bile in the back of his throat. He felt the ache of his faded bruises. He looked away quickly.</p><p>He went back to the deer tracks, blocking out the sound of their moans and the shlicking sound of Lori’s entrance as Shane pulled her hips roughly to his pelvis.</p><p>Daryl’s eyes led him to the rest of the trail, on the other side of the clearing going out. He needed to go around. He was ready to turn back around and make his way to the other side of the clearing on a different path but his eyes flicked to the noises one last time.</p><p>He’d frozen mid-turn. Because there had been Shane, looking at him from the ground, while he squeezed Lori’s ass and she buried her face in her shirt, muffling her cries.</p><p>Shane looked Daryl in the eye as he ground his dick hard into Lori’s cunt. He smirked at the man and, grunting his orgasm, he winked.</p><p>Daryl hightailed it out as silently as possible. He maneuvered his way deep into the forest, lungs burning, head pounding, and he only stopped when he crashed onto the forest floor, vomiting what little he ate that morning and dry heaving after. He crawled through the brush until he could rest against a tree, catching his breath, and spitting the leftover taste of bile from his mouth.</p><p>The sun was high in the sky by the time he got up. He pulled his crossbow off of his back and readied it with only one prey in mind.</p><p>By the time he had calmed down and refound the dear tracks, his neck was heavy with the weight of dead squirrels. He shot the deer a few times, hoping to make it quick, but the thing had just kept running. The blood was making it easier to track but it’d likely attract any nearby walkers. His deer's trail was starting to circle back towards the camp and so he followed it, bolt in place.</p><p>He heard commotion through the bushes ahead of him. He burst through the bushes to find his deer chewed up by walkers. It wasn’t until he dropped the squirrels where the fire should’ve been that he really took note of the newcomer.</p><p>That’s when he met the curly-haired motherfucker who handcuffed his brother to a roof.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Three days later and Daryl is at the CDC with half their original group gone, his brother included. He scrubbed himself raw in the shower, careful of his healing cuts. For the first time in almost a month, he didn’t feel Shane under his skin. But his brain still buzzed with thoughts.</p><p>Rick Grimes, ex-dead husband of Lori, father of Carl, and best friend of Shane. Rick put him on edge. He didn’t understand the man. Rick locked Merle on a roof. Rick went back for Merle. Rick had been a cop. Rick fought like a man crazed. Rick was Shane’s friend. Rick was the only one who could fight with Shane and win. </p><p>Shane had been unofficially in charge since the group was formed, but things had changed. Rick did more than turn the tables, he fucking flipped them over. Daryl didn't trust Rick, but he was the only person who could stop Shane and his power trips. He also seemed to make Shane’s life hell, which was a plus in Daryl’s book. But it also made him weary. Shane could only pretend to be a good guy for so long, Daryl could recognize the anger boiling under Shane’s skin. He was bound to lash out, and soon. Daryl couldn’t help but hope he wouldn’t be there when it happened.</p><p>It was times like that, that made Daryl a little glad that Merle wasn’t with them. He was out there somewhere, alive, and Shane had no way to threaten him with his brother's life.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Daryl stumbles upon Shane fucking Lori right where he'd raped Daryl. Shane sees him but keeps going, and winks. Daryl pukes bc gross.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. You're Trigger Finger's Mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Daryl’s vision was hazy, he was getting dizzy, he felt as though he couldn’t get enough air. But he could focus on Shane, as the man walked closer. He took off the safety, he could hear people shouting now, but it felt far away, so far away. All he could see was that motherfucker getting closer.</p><p>“You rat fucking bastard,” he pulled the trigger.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the ball is rollin now bitches!<br/>the working title for this chapter was Shooting the Sh(ane)it but I thought i'd keep to the theme of song lyrics/titles lol.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daryl looked up at the sky and cursed his goddamn life. His horse had thrown him. He landed hard, almost rolling off the side of a steep hill. Before he could be relieved at not falling into a fucking ravine, he felt a flare of pain from his thigh. His bolt had gone straight through the meat of his upper thigh.</p><p>“Fuckin’ shit.” he grit out.</p><p>Not the first time he’d caught himself with a bolt. When he first taught himself to shoot he once shot straight through his foot. He didn't have any help back then either. He could make do. He turned over on his front so he could keep the weight off his injured leg and that's when he saw it. At the bottom of the ravine, caught between fallen branches and soaking wet, was the doll the Martinez girl had given Sofia.</p><p>“Fuckin shit!” he growled, knowing what he had to do.</p><p>By the time he’d slid all the way down into the ravine, the bleeding had only lessened a little. He’d wrapped it good, he shouldn’t have been bleeding that much. He was panting as he waded through the cool water. It was a relief from the thick Georgia heat, but hell on his thigh. He grabbed Sofia’s doll and was ready to head back when someone spoke.</p><p>“Yer gonna wanna turn around little brother,”</p><p>Daryl spun in the water, catching the neck of a walker and going down. His leg throbbed, but he held the head underwater and shoved its skull into the stones of the river until it broke open and punctured its brain.</p><p>He crawled to shore, stopping short at the sight of familiar dirty boots.</p><p>“Oh fuck me,” Daryl panted.</p><p>“You already look pretty fucked to me, Darlena.”</p><p>…</p><p>“You know I’m right. You yank that stick out and you can stop the bleedin’, but no-o, my brother knows best apparently!”</p><p>Daryl ignored him for the fourth time. Struggling to climb back up the ravine with one good leg.</p><p>“Lookit you, gettin’ fat there ain't ya, less people and more food for you, huh?”</p><p>Daryl made a sound and his throat but climbed on. He’d noticed his lower stomach rounding out a bit. He was too young to have a beer gut, and even if he wasn’t he hadn’t had beer since before the end. It wasn’t like he’d been eating a shit ton, if anything he was eating less. His appetite was strange, he’d feel sick for no reason, and where he would normally never pass up creamed corn, even the smell of the shit made his gut churn.</p><p>But still, his abdomen had hardened, swelling only just barely viable.</p><p>He remembered in school, only weeks before meeting Kyle, his World History teacher had taught them what happened to the labor slaves in the Killing Fields of Cambodia. The kids' bellies were so empty, they filled with air, stretching the skin and making it hard. Daryl could never forget the story of the little boy called Arn, and the pictures of the skeletal bodies, stomachs all swollen up.</p><p>He knew he should be eating more, but he couldn’t tell what would make him nauseous next, and it wasn’t like he had many options.</p><p>“All them years I spent trying to make a man of you, this is what I get?” Merle scoffed from above him. “Look at you. Lying in the dirt like a used rubber. You're gonna die out here, brother. And for what?”</p><p>“A girl. They lost a little girl.” Daryl replied, grunting with the effort of getting himself to a small ledge, barely 5 feet above the floor.</p><p>“So you got a thing for little girls now?” Merle badgered.</p><p>“Shut up,” he growled back, resting for a bit.</p><p>“'Cause I noticed you ain't out looking for old Merle no more.” Daryl knew this wasn’t real. But he couldn’t stand any Merle, real or imaginary, thinking that of him. Not after what he’d done to keep them alive.</p><p>“Tried like hell to find you, bro,”</p><p>“Like hell you did. You split, man. Lit out first chance you got.” he mocked, frowning down at his brother.</p><p>“You lit out. All you had to do was wait. We went back for you. Rick and I, we did right by you,” he defended. He did his best. He wasn’t about to let Merle say he hadn’t.</p><p>“This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place? Forced me to cut off my own hand? This him we're talking about here? You his bitch now?”</p><p>“I ain’t no-”</p><p>Nah, that’s right, you’re Shane’s bitch, huh?” he smirked.</p><p>“I ain’t no one’s bitch.” he spat. His blood was pumping now, he got back up and tried to pull his way to Merle.</p><p>He climbed as Merle berated him.</p><p>“Redneck trash.” Grab a root.</p><p>“Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except me, little brother.” Find a foothold.</p><p>“You're nothing but a freak to them.” Yank himself up.</p><p>“They're laughing at you behind your back.” Sink his hand into the soil.</p><p>“They gonna scrape you off their heels like you was dogshit.” put his elbow on the next divot.</p><p>“They ain't your kin, your blood.” drag his bleeding leg through the dirt of the wall.</p><p>“Come on. Come on, little brother. Grab your friend Rick's hand.”</p><p>He dragged himself over the edge of the incline and let his muscles go slack. He worked to even out his heavy breathing, turned over, grabbed the bolt, and yanked.</p><p>...</p><p>He was swaying as he walked out of the woods. He’d managed to stem the bleeding in his leg and rewrap it. Merle had been right. He heard shouting ahead of him, then all of a sudden he was looking Rick in the face. Or rather he was looking Rick’s gun in the face.</p><p>“That's the third time you've pointed that thing at my head. You gonna pull the trigger or what?”</p><p>Then he was down, side of his head burning like a bitch. He groaned as he looked up at the sky, then there was Rick and T-Dog pulling him up and dragging him towards the house.</p><p>“I was fuckin’ kiddin’” he groaned.</p><p>...</p><p>Carol and Hershel were checking Daryl over. Hershel went straight to the leg wound and bullet damage, while Carol did triage on the rest of Daryl’s body. Daryl bit back at Hershel’s scolding over stealing his horse, and Carol rolled him onto his back.</p><p>“It's a wonder you people have survived this long.” Hershel sighed.</p><p>Carol began to palpate Daryl’s stomach and noticed the unusual stiffness and swelling. She looked up at Hershel and asked if Maggie could take over the stitching so she could talk to him.</p><p>“He’s showing signs of internal bleeding,” Carol confessed as soon as they were out of earshot. “I didn’t want to say it in front of him if you couldn’t help him.”</p><p>Hershel shook his head, “He must have fallen harder than he said. We’ve got an older model animal ultrasound. I’ll get Patricia to bring it into the house and we’ll see what we’re dealing with.”</p><p>Carol nodded and headed back to Daryl, hoping to hear about Sofia’s doll as she cleaned him up.</p><p>…</p><p>Hershel came back into the room less than ten minutes later with Patricia and a large machine with wires and detachables and a screen.</p><p>“The fuck is that?”</p><p>“We’re gonna check to see if anything inside you burst, okay?” Carol soothed, “You wouldn’t be able to tell, but this is just to check.”</p><p>Daryl calmed a bit, back to his usual gruffness, and complied with Hershel’s orders.</p><p>He laid back as Maggie finished up with the stitches on his head, glad for the local anesthetic. He would have grit his teeth and bore it, but he wouldn’t complain about medication.</p><p>“Shit’s cold man!” Daryl hissed, but Hershel paid no mind and began to move the wand through the gel on Daryl’s stomach until he got to the firm skin of the man's lower abdomen.</p><p>“I see what you meant carol,” Hershel said, brows furrowing as he continued his search for the source of the swelling. “Ah, there it is, my God, look at that!” His brows were furrowed, but he sounded surprised but also... relieved?</p><p>“Well, Mr. Dixon I’m glad to tell you there’s no bleeding, and I’m even gladder still to tell you that the fetus is fine, as long as you let your wounds heal up, the pregnancy looks perfectly viable.”</p><p>“What,” Carol said, more statement than question.</p><p>“The baby is healthy, and other than his external injuries and a bit of malnutrition, so is Daryl,” Hershel replied, struggling to hide his astonishment over the baby's ability to remain intact after what Daryl had been through.</p><p>Daryl listened blankly as Carol tried to figure out what Hershel was seeing. Hershel tried to question him, figure out how far along he was, did he know? What was his family history with carriers? But Daryl was stuck.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>He got up, adrenaline pumping. Carol tried to stop him, Hershel called after him to slow down. He limped out the door, seeing red and shaking. He knocked into Rick on the front porch. Rick tried to grab him, hold him steady.</p><p>Daryl yanked himself away, breathing heavy, eyes crazed. The people in the house were shouting for him to come back, scrambling after him. Rick tried again to slow Daryl down, to ask him what was going on. Daryl grabbed the gun from Rick’s hip and stormed down the stairs shouting as best he could.</p><p>“Where is he?! Where’s that son of a bitch?! Get out here, motherfucker!”</p><p>The whole camp was up now, lamps and candles lighting up the area. They asked what was going on, what had happened, why he had a gun?</p><p>“Daryl, your leg is bleeding, I need you to put the gun down and come inside, okay?”</p><p>Rick had his hands up and his voice soft and firm but Daryl couldn’t care. All he cared about was Shane coming around the corner of the truck. Daryl’s vision was hazy, he was getting dizzy, he felt as though he couldn’t get enough air. But he could focus on Shane, as the man walked closer. He took off the safety, he could hear people shouting now, but it felt far away, so far away. All he could see was that motherfucker getting closer.</p><p>“You rat fucking bastard,” he pulled the trigger.</p><p>Screams echoed through the night. Lori shouting, crying. Carl ran from his tent straight towards Daryl. People gathered around Shane. Rick grabbed Daryl’s arms and got the gun from his shaking hands, taking him to the ground.</p><p>Daryl was gonna be sick, he was gonna die, Shane was right, they were gonna kill him. He heard Hershel shouting and the body restraining him had gone slightly slack in surprise. He thrashed hard, clawing and spitting until he was released and lying in the dirt. Then all he saw was Carol’s face, her arms pulling him into her lap as he writhed, trying to catch his breath.</p><p>“It was him- it was- it was him,” he panted hard, looking into her eyes, pleading with her to believe him, “He said- said he’s gonna kill us- said he’d kill us,” eyes stinging, lungs burning, “It was him- kill Merle, kill me, it was-”</p><p>“I know, Daryl I know, it’s okay, it was him, it was him, I know that now. I need you to breathe with me Daryl, okay? Gonna breathe in, gonna breathe out slow..”</p><p>He was hyperventilating. He knew that, in the back of his mind somewhere, if he couldn’t control his breathing he’d pass out. He’d pass out and Carol wouldn’t be able to hold off everyone trying to get at him. Then he couldn’t find Sofia. He couldn’t help Carol. He’d be dead, they’d kill him while he was out of it. Shane would have killed him. Just like he said. He needed to calm down. He needed to breathe.</p><p>He needed to survive.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Cambodia thing Daryl mentions in the forest was an actual real-life event. When the Khmer Rouge invaded Cambodia they kidnapped and killed 1.8 million people. The story he referenced was taken from the true story of Arn Chorn-Pond a survivor of the Killing Fields. Not many people even know about the genocide in Cambodia, but in my high school sophomore World History class, my teacher had us read Never Fall Down by Arn Chorn-Pond. I was sick every day we read it. I had to pause my reading periodically to weep or throw up. The atrocities committed against the Cambodian citizens were too much for me to process and I ended up needing therapy. It's told from the perspective of the author when he was a child. I highly suggest you research the Killing Fields and read Never Fall Down (but please, only if you're over 18. this book deals with the serious, true story of a survivor.) Arn Chorn-Pond is only 54 years old.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Fill Me With Your Needs; I Don't Need to Breathe.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“We believe you. I believe you.”</p><p>Daryl let out a shaky breath, eyes not leaving Rick’s, he felt his tensed muscles relax. Rick’s hand shot out and Daryl didn’t flinch as he took the glass from Daryl’s slack hand, keeping it from spilling.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry! i know im like two days late, but I still don't have a beta and it was recently my best friends birthday! the first time in 6 months that I've been anywhere besides my house and the chiro, so, yay! I super promise that I'll be on time next week, but until then, prep for the angst in this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carol and Hershel got Daryl back into the house and laid him down. Maggie helped put an IV in him and Carol kept putting a cool wet cloth on his forehead and talking. Just talking. Where she’d grown up. Where she went to college. Sofia’s first words, ‘ball’. How her father used to paint the most beautiful landscapes she’d ever seen.</p><p>His heart rate returned to normal, Hershel checked on the- on his abdomen. He stitched Daryl's thigh again, removing the ripped stitches. They gave him some painkillers that wouldn’t hurt the- that wouldn’t affect too much of his system. He could vaguely hear the commotion outside and from the other parts of the house. Rushing, shouting, crying. But Daryl focused on Carol talking. He breathed slowly. And he closed his eyes.</p><p>Days passed and Daryl wasn’t allowed to leave the house until he’d healed up enough that he couldn’t pull his stitches. After what he’d done, he was happy to be away from everyone. Hershel refused to let anyone in but his family, Carol, and Rick.</p><p>Rick did the whole cop song and dance, asking his side of the story, what had happened, what had been done to him, when and where it occurred. But Daryl just told him to fuck off, ask Carol, go away.</p><p>Rick nodded and just sat with him for a bit, not saying anything, just letting Daryl have his silence. He left an hour after sitting down in Daryl’s room, and sat down with Carol.</p><p>Rick didn’t bother him the rest of the day. Sure he checked in on Daryl pretty often, but he didn't interrogate him. Rick was the one who brought his dinner, sitting down next to the bed with his own meal, a PB&amp;J. Daryl turned his head from the plate of food, putting his nose as far away from the creamed corn and roasted beets as he could.</p><p>“You gotta eat, Daryl. If you don't you won't recover and-”</p><p>"It’s not- Shit man, I ate lunch didn’t I? It’s that fuckin’- corn shit.” Daryl broke in, not ready to talk about… it.</p><p>“Oh,” Rick said, surprised. Intellectually he knew Daryl was pregnant, Hershel had shown him, and Carol had told him what’d happened. But this was the first time he’d really presented any familiar symptoms, His abdomen was only slightly bloated, and it looked more like Daryl had indulged in a little too much beer than that he was pregnant.</p><p>“Here, take my sandwich, I’d been eyein’ those beats since I brought them upstairs.”</p><p>Daryl huffed, looking as Rick replaced his plate with the sandwich and moved to the other side of the room, digging into what was supposed to be Daryl’s food.</p><p>Daryl’s stomach settled and he glanced a bit at the plate beside the bed before grabbing it and stuffing the sandwich in his mouth.</p><p>Rick smiled behind his spoon as he watched Daryl inhale first the sandwich then the chips. Rick finished his meal quickly, doing his best to swish his apple juice around his mouth when he was finished so Daryl wouldn’t have to suffer through the scent of creamed corn. He sat back down in the chair by the bed and handed Daryl his glass of milk when he struggled to swallow down a mouthful. He chuckled just a bit when Daryl glared at him, but accepted the milk, drinking sedately. The man was dangerous, sure, but Rick couldn’t help but be reminded of a hissing, wet alley cat.</p><p>As Daryl leaned back against the pillows, glass cupped in both hands, Rick slowly sobered. He cleared his throat.</p><p>“The bullet went through and through Shane’s shoulder,” he said, watching as Daryl tensed. “He was treated outside in the camp, Hershel was willing to stitch him up, but he refuses to let him in the house.”</p><p>Daryl stared ahead and took a gulp of milk, otherwise silent, so Rick carried on.</p><p>“Carol told me what she knows. I won’t be questioning you tonight, don’t worry, Carol was… thorough.” Daryl flinched and tightened a hand on the glass, knuckles white. “She told me what I needed to know, and I know enough. I need you to know, before anything else.” he paused to lean over, catching Daryl’s eyes. “We believe you. I believe you.”</p><p>Daryl let out a shaky breath, eyes not leaving Rick’s, he felt his tensed muscles relax. Rick’s hand shot out and Daryl didn’t flinch as he took the glass from Daryl’s slack hand, keeping it from spilling.</p><p>“I believe you,” he repeated, “And we’re keeping him away from you, and everyone else, until we can figure out what to do. He won’t touch you, won’t look in your direction again, you understand?”</p><p>“Yeah,“ Daryl rasped.</p><p>“Good. Tomorrow I’ll be talking to Hershel, he owns the land, and he’s gonna have to have a say, but I need to make sure of something before I leave you be, alright?”</p><p>Daryl nodded, Rick’s hands were still wrapped around his own, both of them holding the milk glass.</p><p>“Do you want to keep this baby?”</p><p>Daryl didn't speak, couldn’t speak, didn’t know.</p><p>“No one here is going to make you carry a baby you don’t want. Glenn went on a run yesterday and, uh, brought something back that could take care of it. You say the word.”</p><p>Daryl opened his mouth, then closed it again. He hadn’t thought of this, why hadn’t he thought of this shit.</p><p>“But if you want to keep it, that’s fine.” he said softly, “This baby belongs to you and you alone, but every one of us, we look after each other. If you keep it, the baby is one of us, we look out for you both. I know you can look after yourself, but this is what we do, we keep each other alive.”</p><p>“I don’t- I hadn’t thought-” Daryl huffed, frustrated at his lack of words, “I don’t know…”</p><p>“And that’s okay too, you don’t gotta decide right now. You got time, but the pills we have, they only work in the first half of your first trimester and you’re gonna be coming up on your third month. So you can wait, let time make that decision for you, or you can take it sometime in the next two weeks.” Rick slid his hand from Daryl’s hand to his forearm, getting Daryl to look back at him, head on. “Whatever you chose, ain’t no one here against you.”</p><p>Daryl nodded.</p><p>But Rick didn’t get to talk to Hershel the next day, because Shane had ripped open the barn doors, killing the walkers that used to be the Greene family, and doing the one thing Daryl couldn't. Finding Sofia.</p><p>Beth was losing it, Carol was grieving, and Hershel had fucked off to who knew where. Rick and Glenn had gone after him and came back with a bleeding kid. All of that and, oh lovely, Lori had gone after them and crashed a fucking car. She got back in one piece, Shane bringing her back of course. Now Rick needed to figure out what to do with the boy they’d saved, who apparently tried to shoot them. The day after that was no good either. After getting Hershel sobered, Beth stitched and everyone buried, Rick had taken Shane with him to get rid of the kid. They came back, both beaten to shit, the kid still with 'em. Rick called the group in to have a vote, sans Shane, who wasn’t allowed in the house. The debate would continue the next day, Dale rallying against the death penalty. After everyone had vacated the house and gone back to their tents, Rick remained with Hershel in the living room.</p><p>Daryl’s was hidden by the doorframe. He hadn’t meant to overhear Rick and Hershel, but once he had, he couldn’t walk away.</p><p>“I need you to understand that if you send us back out there, you’ll be killing us.”</p><p>“Now, I helped y’all, housed, and healed your hurt. I’ve already done the Christian thing-"</p><p>“Could you live with our death on your head? The blood of three children, of women and-"</p><p>“Last I checked you had one son, and Mr. Dixon wasn’t having twins-“</p><p>“My wife. It’s my wife. She’s having- she’s- it’s my wife.”</p><p>“I suppose you hadn’t thought to bring back a contraceptive on any of those runs?”</p><p>“It’s not- she’s said it was almost two months. I wasn’t-“ Rick cleared his throat gruffly “- I hadn’t found them yet.”</p><p>Daryl felt ice in his veins. He heard Hershel breathe out harshly as Rick cleared his throat once more.</p><p>“The others don’t know yet. I’d prefer if you could keep this to yourself for now-“</p><p>“About Shane or the pregnancy?” He sighed.</p><p>Daryl could hear as Rick’s head whipped towards Hershel. He struggled to control his breathing as he heard the men speaking.<br/>“I never said it was-“</p><p>“Son, you didn’t have to. I’ve known men like that. They prey on the grieving, break people to feel stronger. He’s power-hungry. And if I know, I’d think your group knows too. It’s no secret what that man is capable of doing.”</p><p>“She didn’t know what he’d done. She didn’t know I was- She thought I was dead, Shane told her I was dead.”</p><p>“I’m sure she did.” Hershel sighed. “You can stay. You and your group. But I don’t want that man on my farm. I don’t want him near my daughters. You stay here, you listen to me.” His voice went firm, “Now, I don’t care what you do with him. I’m a Godly man and I’ve never condoned the death penalty, but if your man were to die, there’d be no complaints from me. You do what you think is best, Rick. But you get him and that other boy off my land.”</p><p>There was silence for a beat too long, and the cautious hope that Daryl had was cut down with dread.</p><p>“I’m gonna need to think about this...” Rick sounded unsure. He couldn’t bring himself to kill Randall, the kid had shot at him, he posed a threat to the whole farm. And Rick has brought him back alive. Shane had raped a member of their group. He had slept with Rick’s wife, gotten her pregnant. He refused to follow Rick, he’d opened up the barn. He put them all in danger. Rick had saved his life, had talked to him, tried to give him a second chance.</p><p>But Rick needed to ask himself the same questions he’d asked Hershel before. Could he risk the lives of everyone in their group? Could he risk the lives of three children? He saw what could happen to kids out there. Sofia had died. Hell, grown adults had died. How could they survive with two pregnant people? And if they actually managed to reach labor? No one but Hershel knew how to deliver a baby. Lori had had trouble with Carl, the placenta had ripped and she needed a C-section. Who’s to say this baby wouldn’t need one too? And Daryl was pregnant too, carriers weren’t incredibly rare, hell they’d gotten Carl tested when he was 10 and he had inherited the genome from Lori’s dad. But a pregnant carrier was different. The uterus was in a different place. It took specific knowledge to perform a c-section on a carrier. God willing Daryl would be able to give birth naturally, but there’d be no medication and his screams were sure to be enough to call the walkers.</p><p>Risk all that, or kill Shane?</p><p>Because Rick knew he couldn’t let him live. From what Lori said, he truly believed that she, Carl, and the babies belonged to him. Like toys, he’d had taken away. Lori wouldn’t go into detail, but something had happened at the CDC. Something that scared her. Something she said, made her believe that Shane was capable of what had been done to Daryl.</p><p>Risk the road, the lives of his people, or murder the man who had been his best friend, who’d saved his family when Rick couldn’t.<br/>The men were silent for a long while before Rick spoke.</p><p>“I know you’re right. I know what needs to be done. But I need time. I need to talk to the group. It’s their decision too.” He paused, “Whatever gets decided, it’ll be done before the end of the week.”</p><p>As Hershel replied, neither noticed Daryl slip away and back to his room. No one saw the tremor in his hand as he slid the door closed quietly. No one saw him rush to the bathroom and puke in disgust. No one knew but Carol, who’d woken when Daryl closed the bathroom door after he rinsed his mouth. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked pale. She sat up from the rocking chair, going around and helping him into the bed. She didn’t ask any questions, she didn’t need to. If Daryl wanted to tell her, he’d tell her. As she sat back down in her chair by the bed, she heard Daryl huff out a laugh.</p><p>Confused, she put a hand to his forehead, checking for a fever. But Daryl just laughed again. And again. And didn’t stop. His eyes were wet and crinkled in panic. Carol, alarmed, was ready to call out to Hershel, but Daryl stopped her. His hand wrapped around her wrist loosely and he caught his breath.</p><p>“They got a sibling,” he rasped.</p><p>“They- what?”</p><p>“It’s- the- they got a goddamn sibling.”</p><p>“I- oh. Oh god, Daryl,” she breathed in horror. “Oh, Daryl...”</p><p>She climbed into the bed, holding him to her. She refused to let herself think of how she’d hold Sofia after a nightmare. Sofia was gone. Daryl was here. Daryl was here, and he didn’t get to wake up from his nightmare. She felt sick.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Pride's Gonna Be the Death of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Remembering Daryl’s eyes, crazed and scared after finding out about the baby. </p><p>His boot crushed Shane’s nose to mush.</p><p>Remembering Shane’s eyes as he rushed at Rick with a weapon.</p><p>He felt the teeth give way to his heel.</p><p>Remembering Carl’s horrified face, sick as he tried to reconcile Shane the rapist with Shane the man who’d filled in for his dad.</p><p>His pant leg soaked with blood, Shane’s jaw ground into the dirt, but his eyes still moving, his body still twitching.</p><p>Remembering Carol telling him about the injuries Daryl had sustained from the attack.</p><p>He brought his foot back up.</p>
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    <p>Daryl was standing in the field staring at Rick’s profile, while Shane held a gun aimed at his head.</p><p>Rick, the fucking idiot, had dropped his gun and it looked like he was trying to talk Shane down, but Daryl knew. He knew Shane would never stop. Never stop trying to hurt Rick, never stop tearing up the group, never stop reminding Daryl of what he’d done. Shane would never stop, and Rick would never stop him.</p><p>Daryl took aim, creeping closer silently, he still couldn't hear what they were saying, but his eyes narrowed as he saw Shane take the safety off. Rick turned to face him, creeping closer to the man. Shane lowered the gun slightly, but Daryl saw his finger creep toward the trigger and he took the shot.</p><p>Shane cried out as the bolt stuck through his shoulder, gun going off and Rick rushed forward, knife glinting in the moonlight as it entered Shane’s gut.</p><p>Daryl ran, swinging his crossbow over his shoulder and pulling out his knife. Shane was struggling against Rick, shock in his eyes but his body lashed out, getting a good hit in on Rick’s jaw. Daryl slid forward, grabbing Shane by the neck, momentum taking them down to the ground as Daryl brought his knife down into Shane’s chest, a guttural scream ripping from his throat.</p><p>He twisted the knife.</p><p>All he could think was that Shane never stopped.</p><p>He pulled the knife out.</p><p>He never stopped so why should Daryl,</p><p>He looked Shane in the eyes.</p><p>he'd never touch Daryl again,</p><p>He plunged it in again.</p><p>he'd never pick up another gun,</p><p>And again.</p><p>he'd never hurt nobody again,</p><p>And again</p><p>he'd never...</p><p>Blood sprayed his face, warm as it dripped into his eyes.</p><p>he'd...</p><p>He sliced the fucker from chest to gut then stabbed at his crotch till the gurgling screams stopped.</p><p>He hadn’t even realized Rick was saying his name till the man grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him off the mutilated body of his dead rapist. Daryl's vision was blurred and his face was wet from the blood and the tears. Rick pulled him into his chest, dragging them away from the body and slid his hand down to where Daryl was still fisting the knife. With his other hand, he pushed the hair back from Daryl’s eyes and let out a shaky breath before trying to clean the mess off the shaking man's face. He only ended up smearing it around, staining his own hands.</p><p>“It’s a'right now, Daryl, It’s all gonna be alright,” He soothed, but his voice wavered, eyes stinging as he squeezed the man impossibly closer. Daryl’s hands were gripping the back of his shirt and every stuttering breath was accompanied by wounded sounds from deep in the man's throat.</p><p>“He’s gone, he’s dead, you did it,” he rocked them both slightly, unconscious of what he was doing, “He ain’t gonna touch you ‘gain, can’t touch ya- can’t hurt you now, he can’t hurt you no more…”</p><p>Before either of them could catch their breaths and get up, there was the groaning sound of a walker. Rick knew. He squeezed Daryl one more time, got up, and walked the few feet to Shane’s reanimating body. He held the corpse down with one foot to the chest and brought the other down hard.</p><p>Remembering Daryl’s eyes, crazed and scared after finding out about the baby.</p><p>His boot crushed Shane’s nose to mush.</p><p>Remembering Shane’s eyes as he rushed at Rick with a weapon.</p><p>He felt the teeth give way to his heel.</p><p>Remembering Carl’s horrified face, sick as he tried to reconcile Shane the rapist with Shane the man who’d filled in for his dad.</p><p>His pant leg soaked with blood, Shane’s jaw ground into the dirt, but his eyes still moving, his body still twitching.</p><p>Remembering Carol telling him about the injuries Daryl had sustained from the attack.</p><p>He brought his foot back up.</p><p>Remembering the man who’d been his friend, his brother, his family.</p><p>He stomped down hard. Crushing the rest of the man’s skull, grey matter splattering around his boot. The twitching stopped. And for one second, the only sound was his and Daryl’s breathing.</p><p>He spat on the bloody, torn up chest of what used to be Shane Walsh, officer, rapist, murderer.</p><p>And then he looked up. Saw bodies moving at the edge of the forest.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>He yanked Daryl’s arrow from the dead man’s chest and rushed to the archer, knelt still on the grass. He grabbed him around the chest, moving them forward, and said,</p><p><br/>“Daryl, run!”</p><p>…</p><p>They all knew where to go to regroup. They’d never said it, but they hadn’t needed to. Although the sign left for Sofia was faded and partially washed away, they all knew exactly which car it was. After Rick, Carl and Hershel, Daryl and Carol were the next to show up. Then Glenn and Maggie, and finally, T-Dog, Beth, and Lori.</p><p>Everyone else was gone. Everything other than what they had with them was gone too.</p><p>After they took off, after they settled down for camp, after the fighting and the confessions and the fear, Lori wouldn’t look at Rick.</p><p>Carol took Daryl away to clean him up, the Greene's huddled together and Glenn with them. T-Dog stood watch with Rick and Carl laid in the dirt, back to his mother, </p><p>The moment Rick admitted that he and Daryl killed Shane, Lori was cold. No one blamed Daryl, no one could blame Daryl, not even Lori. But they couldn’t blame Rick either. If what they said was true, Rick stabbed Shane in self-defense. Shane had taken Rick out there to kill him, and if Daryl hadn’t been there to help, Shane might have succeeded. Even Carl understood. He noticed the way his mom was shuddering away from his dad every time the man tried to talk to her, tried to touch her, and he couldn’t understand.</p><p>It didn’t matter what Shane had done for them, the way he acted, the way he pretended to love them, it didn’t even matter that mom’s baby was Shanes. And yes, Carl knew. He was eleven, not an idiot. His mom was almost as pregnant as Daryl and that meant that his dad hadn’t been there when she got pregnant. Dad still said it was his baby, and it was going to be Carl’s little sister or brother no matter what.</p><p>But Shane stopped being Shane when Carl found out what he’d done to Daryl. Carl didn’t know Daryl all that well, but he protected Carl and the group. He was nice in a weird, gruff kinda way. And he tried to teach Carl how to hunt that one time, and even when Carl wasn’t any good at tracking, Daryl still said he did good for a beginner.</p><p>But even if Daryl had been mean to them instead, he still wouldn’t have deserved what Shane did to him. Carl didn’t know the details, no one would tell him, and if he really thought about it, he didn’t wanna know. He knew what rape was. His dad was a cop, he’d learned stranger danger at school and sometimes he used to hide behind the couch and watch the violent adult movies that his parents would watch when they thought he was asleep.</p><p>Carl had an appointment, the year before The Turn, with the pediatrician to check his hormones and ultrasound his belly. His dad wasn’t a carrier, but his mom’s side carried the gene, so it had been a 50/50 chance. When all tests came back positive, Rick bought books and did research, and asked the doctor more questions than Carl did.</p><p>Carl didn’t really care about it all that much except for when he thought about how when he grew up he could grow, like, a whole person in his body. That was kinda weird to think about, but his dad told him that, if he grew up and never wanted to carry a baby, he’d never have to. Carl was relieved but also thought that was kinda weird too, cause why else would he be a carrier? But Rick had said that being a carrier only meant that he <em>could</em> have a baby, not that he <em>had</em> to have a baby. Carl loved his dad, even when his parents fought, he never had to doubt that his dad loved him too.</p><p>But when Shane had saved them, told them his dad was dead, and started to fill in for Rick, he thought, maybe he could love Shane like that. And for a while he did. He really truly believed that Shane loved them too, but his dad came back, and Carl couldn’t help but see how mad Shane was. Then he started getting mean, not just to Carl, but to his mom and dad too.</p><p>He stopped feeling safe around the man. He stopped going to him for comfort or advice, eventually, Carl didn’t even want to be around him. And after it came out about what he did to Daryl, Carl knew. Shane wasn’t a good guy, he never had been, even when he’d been pretending to be part of Carl’s family, he’d raped someone and acted like it had never happened. Shane was the kind of bad guy that was supposed to be put in jail. The kind that Shane had been supposed to put in jail. Carl just didn’t get why his mom couldn’t understand that.</p><p>…</p><p>And later, after trekking through the woods for three weeks, Carl’s parents acted more like they did before his dad got shot. The whole camp could feel the tension, no one wanted to take sides, but it was obvious that their frustration would come to a head. And after crowding everyone into a cabin they’d found in the woods, it did. They sat Carl down in the master bedroom, and he couldn’t help but notice that neither of his parents were wearing their rings.</p><p>...</p><p>Daryl sat, silent, in the dead leaves as Carol wiped at his face with a wet rag. She used water from one of the only bottles they'd had on them, and when Daryl had told her to save it for something more important, she'd replied,</p><p>"You can't see yourself, we can." and that was that.</p><p>Daryl had barely spoken since they left the farm, only bits and pieces interjected to back up Rick's story. Carol spoke quietly, careful of their surroundings and Daryl's potentially delicate mental state.</p><p>"When I took that ax to Ed's head," She didn't pause in her work, continuing to rub away the blood, "I didn't feel sad, didn't feel guilty, didn't feel grief..."</p><p>She re-wet the soiled rag, "I didn't feel loss or- or vindication... I felt <em>cheated</em>. I wanted to hear him scream. I wanted to pluck his eyes from his skull, cut off his hands and make him eat them. I wanted to fuck up his body like he'd fucked up mine. I wanted him to feel it, and I don't feel bad about that."</p><p>Daryl raised his eyes to hers for the first time that night, they shone in the half-light of the moon, no pity, no tears. He opened his mouth, then couldn't close it. It all poured out of him, every blow he'd dealt, every thought he'd had. How Rick had lied to protect him, made his role in Shane's murder seem lesser. But it was Daryl's bolt that'd hit first, and Daryl's knife that'd been the last to touch Shane while he was still alive. Rick might have stabbed Shane, but Daryl had killed him.</p><p>"...and it's ugly, it feels stuck in my throat, but I'm <em>proud. </em>I ended it. I ended <em>him</em>. I don't know how, when it feels like I got a spur in my throat, but it's like I can breathe. It feels like I survived. It's stupid, I know it's stupid-"</p><p>"No." Carol's voice was firm, and maybe louder than it should have been.</p><p>"You <em>did</em> survive. You are here and he is not, you made that happen. You beat him, you won, you took out the threat, whatever you wanna call it ain't stupid, you survived."</p><p>Her bony hands gripped Daryl's chin with surprising strength. "You listen to me Daryl goddamn Dixion, you are <em>alive</em>, and you made that happen, that makes you a survivor."</p><p>She rose up from her kneeled position, knees creaking, stretching out her hand to Daryl. "Now get the fuck up and let's get back before Ricktator over there decides it's time to switch watch."</p><p>Daryl looked up, and he took Carol's hand.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello! I know a few of you are squicky or don't know how to feel about Daryl continuing the pregnancy. As the story progresses, Daryl (and hopefully you the reader) begin to see the baby as Daryl's and Daryl's alone. (And Ricks too eventually lol) I am an assault survivor who had to deal with a similar situation to Daryl's (No zombies). My sister is an assault survivor and my niece is the product of rape. She is 7 years old. I love her. and I would have loved my baby too. I know it's different for everyone, some people choose abortion, and I fully support that decision and the right to make that choice. But I live through my writing sometimes, and when creating this story, it was always going to have Daryl have his baby. I'm sorry if some weren't expecting that, I hadn't even thought of making Daryl miscarry (although I've considered it for Lori). I hope as the story progresses, you can come to see the baby as more than the result of the rape. No offense taken if that takes you out of the story, thank you for coming this far! Next chapter will be longer, although maybe not on time (I gotta stop promising that!)<br/>Health and Happiness, Kitty</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I Surrender My Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Carl laughed as he doubled over to escape the offending hand, but Rick carried on talking with a smile for his boy as he tried to make him feel as comfortable as possible having a womb talk at the end of the world.</p><p>“Now on woman, it’d be lower, right between the hips, ‘cause they connect to different places, but yours is gonna have to be a little higher cause it sits in the middle of your intestines, instead of below them.”</p><p>Lori stayed quiet from her place on the ground, feeling awkward, but listening for Carl’s sake. Daryl’s hand wandered as he listened, ending up rubbing his bump, his back was starting to twinge a little, but he didn't want to leave. Since he hadn’t even known he had a uterus, stuff like this wasn’t ever important. Now he felt a little stupid for not knowing. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so it's been a while huh? I actually wrote out a whole thing explaining why I've been gone but the page froze and when I reloaded it was gone. Suffice to say, I've returned. and just so you know, I never abandoned this fic and I don't plan on it, but life is life and It's just gonna take longer than expected. But hey, Rickyl should be incoming!</p><p>so to preface for this chapter, I know the actor who plays Daryl is white, but Daryl is a fictional character, and right now he is my fictional character so, as an indigenous/latine woman I'm taking some creative freedoms with his maternal background. the knowledge used for this chapter is derived from the traditions passed down from my grandfather's side, but our tribe is from down south, and not Georgia south, I mean Sierra Madre south, so our traditions are not reflective of the traditions that would be held by tribes specific to the US coast.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>At first, it had been a secret. Something he did only when he was on watch, so no one would see. He’d collected the bones that the others had discarded without them noticing. It was his way of coming to terms with the baby. He knew he still had a choice, Rick and Glenn would raid a pharmacy if he said the word, but now that Shane was gone, Daryl felt like he could breathe. He felt like he could do this, he felt like he might… want to.</span>
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  <span>Merle was gone, dead or alive, Daryl was certain he’d never see his brother again. His Pa drank himself to death, and his Mama… she forgot to put out her cigarette and that was it. 11 years old and, with Merle in juvie, all he had was himself and his dad's belt.</span>
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  <span>Now all Daryl had was himself and maybe, this baby. He knew this group would fight for him, for his kid, but he couldn’t help feeling that maybe this baby would mean he wasn’t alone. Maybe it was something to live for. He wasn’t stupid, he knew it was selfish, making his kid grow up in a world like this. But after everything that happened, he thought maybe he got to be selfish about this. Just once.</span>
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  <span>So every watch, he sewed. Wherever they went, he kept an eye out for wood that was sturdy, in the right shape, carvable. He skinned and sealed every catch, big and small. He picked up pretty things, stones, small trinkets, even a lone earring once. And every time he did, he felt that much surer of his decision. If anyone had noticed his obsession with small pretty things, they didn't say anything.</span>
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  <span>Until around his 16th week of pregnancy, when Carol had caught him. He’d made good headway on a blanket, and was tying off his thread for the night, ready to switch off watch to get some rest when Carol spoke, quiet. </span>
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  <span>“I didn’t know you knew how to sew.” </span>
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  <span>Daryl only startled a little, fighting to keep his face blank. Carol was his friend, but this is what he had feared, this is why he had only sewn by moonlight instead of out in the open at the fire. His defenses were up and he couldn’t help but scowl as he said,</span>
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  <span>“Yeah, and what about it?”</span>
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  <span>Carol’s brows lifted as she listened to his gruff reply. She hadn’t meant anything by it, she was genuinely curious. Maybe it made her a jerk but she hadn’t pictured a man like Daryl Dixon with a needle and thread. </span>
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  <span>“It’s smart,” she said, “it’s a good skill to have at the end of the world. “</span>
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  <span>Daryl’s shoulders relaxed minutely, and he went back to putting away his supplies. And great, he’d been rough at her for no reason.</span>
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  <span>“I learned to sew when I entered the medical field.” She said, filling the silence that wasn’t quite tense but wasn’t as comfortable as it usually was between them. “Stitches are easier if you practice, and people don’t really volunteer skin, so sewing it was.”</span>
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  <span>He knew what she wanted to ask, all her statements had been leading. Getting him to share where and why he’d learned it. He’d been trying to open up, be more tactile, be more comfortable with the people who were getting to be closer than family. He didn’t wanna end up like his Pa, and he knew he had to make changes to do better for the… for his baby. Knowing she wasn’t judging, he figured fuck it. </span>
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  <span>“My uh,” he cleared his throat, “my Ma taught me and Merle when we was little. It’s not like we could buy somethin’ new every time your shirt ripped. And Merle played rough so shit got ripped a lot.”</span>
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  <span>“Oh... sounds smart, your mom, good skill to pass on.”</span>
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  <span>“Yeah she-“ Daryl paused, he hadn’t talked about his mom to anyone. Not since she died. He’d have to talk about her sooner or later, he wanted his kid to learn what he had learned. Wanted them to know their grandma. And wasn't that a kick to the chest? This baby, <em>his</em> baby, would be his Mama’s grandbaby.  “She was, uh, Native, you know? my Pa called her Injun to piss her off. He hated when she didn’t speak English, she tried to teach us, but that was the maddest I’d ever seen him when she was alive.” He paused, remembering the red welts on his Mama’s tan skin. He never understood why, if his dad hated brown people so much, why he’d married one. Ma said they’d been in love once, a long time ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So instead she‘d take me and Merle out back behind the house, there was this huge forest. Taught us how to survive instead.” He laughed, quiet, low, “she used to sew together squirrel’s fur and sell it as bear hide. It worked, rich people couldn’t tell the difference, they’d never seen a bear in their life.” His smile faded, slow, as the memory bled from his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything she could think of. I learned how to sew, how to skin, how to use any part a’ every animal we ever got. She was so proud I picked up the crossbow. Proud when I finished my first blanket. Pa didn’t care cause it meant he didn’t have to buy us shit, but my Ma was so proud.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized, but he’d closed his eyes while speaking, head tilted towards the night sky. He took a breath and got up, using the tree to support him, and made his way to his bike to secure his satchel. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She’d be proud of you now, Daryl. Ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed silent and settled himself in his sleeping bag. But before he closed his eyes he said, </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Carol, for- ya know.” Carol smiled as she got herself ready for the next watch. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You tell anyone ‘bout this though and you’re eatin’ the ass end of anything I catch.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Carol snorted, shook her head, and said quietly, fondly, “Good night Daryl.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A few days later, with some pushing from Carol, he sat down in front of the fire with his supplies and started sewing, determinedly not looking at anyone. To his relief, no one said a word about it. And when Maggie noticed he was cracking open bones, she passed hers over instead of throwing them to the side. After a while Carl sat down near him, just watching. The boy was hovering closer and closer, until Daryl gave up on ignoring him and asked,</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Carl?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Carl flushed, “Uh, sorry Daryl, it’s just-“ he paused and Daryl had a pretty good idea what a middle school aged boy was gonna say. He wasn’t gonna fight the kid over a stupid joke, but he was pretty sure Carol would give Carl a good dressing down over it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What- well, how are you doing that thing with the bones?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Daryl sat up straight, surprised, but trying not to show it too much, “Well, uh, the bones they got this stuff in ‘em. S’called sinew, it’s strong and thin, easiest way to make thread. But you gotta crack the bone a certain way, here, pass me that big one an’ I’ll show ya...”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Carl was full of questions and eager to learn. His enthusiasm was contagious, Daryl found himself smiling as he showed Carl how to carve and file bone into a needle strong enough but small enough to sew. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough the whole camp was listening as he told Carl about the use of different animal parts, some chiming in with the small facts they knew or heard somewhere. Rick was smiling as he watched his son try to thread a needle. As things were winding down for the night, watch being divided, cans being collected, Daryl promised Carl that tomorrow if they found something, he would show him how to skin and seal the fur. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hershel ended up close by Daryl’s sleeping spot for the night, and he smiled at the man, in that way of his, like what Daryl imagined a proud dad would look like. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, son, I’ve only ever heard of the Native Americans using their catch like that. Now I’m not much of a hunter, but I always thought that idea was pretty spectacular.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Daryl said, glancing at the fur peeking out of his satchel, “I, uh, learned from the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite what Rick initially thought, Daryl wasn’t afraid of touch, he just didn’t know what to do about it. He’d rarely experienced touch that hadn’t hurt in some way or another. But he wanted to relearn it all, he’d said, for the baby. Rick had just wanted to be sure of their boundaries, he knew Daryl hadn’t wanted to be treated like he was fragile, over both the baby and the... other stuff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rick didn’t want to make the other man uncomfortable, not if he could help it. He had come so far in his recovery, Rick didn’t want to do anything to hinder that. So he, and the rest of the group, had followed his lead on that count. As the weeks wore on, Daryl had become more tactile with not just Rick, but most of the group. He’d ruffle Carl’s hair, pat Maggie’s back, squeeze Glenn’s shoulder. He’d even been talking to Lori, albeit reluctantly at first. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d initially gone to Hershel, questions about the pregnancy or the baby, but for all his medical knowledge, Hershel was a veterinarian, not an obstetrician. Lori had shyly, hesitatingly put forward that she had some information, having carried Carl almost to term. Daryl had been avoiding the woman, it wasn’t her fault but every time he looked at her, he couldn’t help but think of Shane. That was his baby growing in her stomach. Even though Rick had claimed it as his own, despite their separation, it would occasionally hit him all over again that his baby had a sibling. After stilted conversations about it with Carol, he’d realized he’d been hypocritical. This was, technically, Shane’s baby growing in his stomach too. But he hadn’t seen it that way in a long while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all intents and purposes, this baby was Daryl’s and Daryl’s alone. It was his body making those bones. His body forming each synapse in its brain, not Shane. Once he realized the same was true for Lori, he began, awkwardly, asking her questions. Lori had been incredibly relieved to have someone to talk to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one in the group had been cruel or unkind to Lori, they’d all been perfectly polite. (As polite as you could be at the end of the world.) But that was all. Now that she and Rick had separated, no one had wanted to touch her with a ten-foot pole. Unwilling to get involved with their personal business and be at odds with their leader. But after Daryl had started talking to her, the tensions in the group had started to ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She answered whatever questions she could, and mercilessly embarrassed Carl with baby stories. She’s been stuck in a melancholy that she hadn’t even noticed. But Daryl’s dry humor and self-sufficient attitude started to snap her out of it. Carl had been angry with her since they left the farm. After being relieved to find her alive on the highway, the ice between his parents had forced him to think he needed to choose a side. He’d chosen Rick, because from Carl’s point of view, Rick had done nothing wrong in the relationship. It was Lori who had cheated, knowingly or not, it was Lori who had gotten pregnant, willingly or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But once Daryl started talking to Lori, it felt like he’d made a bridge from Ricks's side to Lori’s side. Lori had said something that had made Daryl laugh and for the first time in a long while, Rick smiled at her. It wasn’t big, and it wasn’t filled with love like it used to be, but it was kind and relaxed. Carl sat by his mom now at dinner. He hugged her again. He was excited about his new sibling. He didn’t feel like he was betraying his dad by loving his mom again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At month four Daryl had woken, silently freaking out, to his belly suddenly being a lot rounder and bigger than he’d thought it was the day before. He’d been afraid he’d done something wrong, or that it meant he could have, God forbid, twins. But Lori had laughed, not unkindly, and explained that he’d ‘popped’. It was something that happened around the four-month mark and would soon be happening to her. It just meant the uterus had been able to get past the pressure of the pelvis and allow the baby (luckily not plural) more room to grow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conversation hadn’t been too private, and Carl who’d been listening had some unfortunate questions regarding anatomy. Unfortunate for the adults who had to figure out kid-friendly answers for him, answers that most of them didn’t have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm, well Carl, I’m not really sure where the uterus is in the male anatomy-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well for now it’s right here,” Daryl answered for Lori, hand cupping the bottom of his rounded abdomen, “I’m not really sure where it was hiding ‘fore that though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick laughed, moving closer to the conversation and put one hand where his belly button was, “everyone is gonna be a little bit different, but yours would be a bit higher than your mom’s, right around here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl’s eyes got wide and his head snapped down to his stomach and he pulled his shirt up a bit, “wait, where is it normally?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small group chuckled and Rick shook his head, “Carl, this is normally for- </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for your body.” He sat on a nearby log, making himself a height to Carl, “It’s right where it should be in men, which is riiiiiight there,” he skirted his fingers under Carl’s belly button, tickling his son like a five-year-old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad!” Carl laughed as he doubled over to escape the offending hand, but Rick carried on talking with a smile for his boy as he tried to make him feel as comfortable as possible having a womb talk at the end of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now on woman, it’d be lower, right between the hips, ‘cause they connect to different places, but yours is gonna have to be a little higher cause it sits in the middle of your intestines, instead of below them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lori stayed quiet from her place on the ground, feeling awkward, but listening for Carl’s sake. Daryl’s hand wandered as he listened, ending up rubbing his bump, his back was starting to twinge a little, but he didn't want to leave. Since he hadn’t even known he had a uterus, stuff like this wasn’t ever important. Now he felt a little stupid for not knowing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, so they're in different places ‘cause they connect to different stuff, but what do they connect to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. at least Daryl knew the answer to that one. Rick went to open his mouth to answer but Carl tilted his head to the side, his brows furrowing. “And where does the baby come out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s enough of that for this morning apparently, “Carl, why don’t you help me get some breakfast started? I’m sure we’re all getting a little hungry by now, huh?” Lori butt in, smiling at Carl and holding in a laugh, and getting up by putting on hand on the tree she’d been resting against.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right, okay mom,” Carl was quick to help her, but looked back at his Dad and Daryl a little reluctant to leave his curiosity unsatiated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick huffed a laugh and said, “Don’t worry bud, I can tell you about it some other time, go help your mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carl sighed but smiled and started walking back to the center of camp to follow his mom. Rick looked up at Daryl grinning, noticed how the man had one hand on his low back, and scooted over, offering him a hand and a seat next to himself. Daryl rolled his eyes but took it, and just as he settled saw Carl turning around before he reached the fire and rushing back at them, a shy but determined look on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carl? What’s- oof!” Rick grunted as Carl bowled into him, rocking him back a bit as he put his arms around his son, returning the hug Carl had almost literally thrown at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was muffled from his position, with his head at the junction of his dad’s shoulder, but Daryl could hear him as he said, “Thanks, Dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick stroked his hand over Carl’s hair, smile lines crinkling, “Every time, son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as quick as he’d come, Carl bolted back over to the fire and joined his mom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick huffed out a laugh and turned his face towards Daryl, cheeks flushed happily, Georgia morning heat making a curl of hair fall just that much over his forehead. Daryl hadn’t ever seen someone smile like that, he looked like even his eyes were smiling as they looked at Daryl. He felt something soft and warm flare up in his chest as he looked at Rick. Rick who held his son like something precious. Rick who fought tooth and nail to keep them all safe. Rick who’s hands could strike and kill as much as they could hold Daryl steady just to sit next to him. Rick, who in the middle of the morning, at the end of the world, could look like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some kid, huh?” Rick said, pride coloring his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl felt that softness in his chest expand, felt like he wanted Rick to smile like that at him again, to smile like that because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a good’un,” Daryl replied, and he smiled, and he meant it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If any of yall recognize the songs any of my chapter titles are from comment down below!<br/>health and happiness, kitty</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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